Why Me? Why Us?
by Lovely Narcissist James Blanke
Summary: Ashelin is losing Tess to drugs. She's having trouble dealing with it. Based off a song by t.A.T.u. Rated for drug reference, character death and the use of ONE bad word.


A/N: I wrote this because I've been having nostalgia for the past…like year? I love Jak and Daxter, I love t.A.T.u and I was listening to the song 'Zachem Ya' (translating into 'why me') when I decided to write this. Note that it doesn't follow all the lines of the song exactly, I like to put my spin on things so it's not that I don't know the song well.

Disclaimer: Jak and Daxter characters belong to Naughty Dog, Zachem Ya belongs to t.A.T.u, if they were mine, this wouldn't be a fanfic, now would it?

Mazel tov mean something like 'congratulations.' Derived from Hebrew. It's kind of like a wish of good luck.

It's written from Lena's side of the song, I kind of used Ashelin as Lena and Tess as Yulia for the purpose of this fanfic. Takes place after Jak three, take no notice of the Lost Frontier because…well, just because I hated that game and refuse to acknowledge it in ANY of my fanfics.

-Ashelin's Point of View-

I always waited for her calls. Not that I ever had anything better to do.

She and I didn't have real work, now that the war is over. We make millions doing nearly nothing. We're models. We're vocalists. We're stars.

So, I awaited her rare phone calls and messages, silent clouds passing by. It 's always misty in this neighborhood. Not that any neighbors actually live here, save for the rats in the warehouse by the Eco generator.

Everyone moved away when that generator was constructed. 'You'll be mutated if you live by a generator!' 'Eco turns people into monsters!' Or so they raved.

That's what everyone said when Jak permanently became Dark. Fools. The populace remained ignorant of the fact that only Dark Eco mutates things. They didn't want to become like him.

If they were Dark Eco generators, I might have understood. After all, I don't fancy the idea of a bunch of Dark Warriors roaming Haven City, especially the kind that can't control it like Jak.

Everyone left Jak when he turned, except for Daxter and Torn, of course. "That's still Jak!" Torn cried, trying to convince us.

We knew it was still Jak. We were just afraid; you could no longer tell when Dark would come out to play anymore. Everyone was, even Keira and I were afraid, and she knew him when he was tiny.

Now the three of them live in a place just as deserted as mine. I suppose there isn't much to provoke him there. They live in the old Underground HQ, now that no one is in the slums. It's always misty there now, too.

I live in South Town, not very far from. Everything here is just as desolate. Mice and metal versus rats and concrete. That's how we like it. How it _should _be. People like us weren't meant to live amongst others. Maybe, we weren't meant to live at all. Not that it matters.

Isolation is like an extension of our souls. We can't latch onto others people, so we stay away from them. Torn, Daxter and Jak. Tess and I…we were meant to live in tiny groups and fade into the background. We were meant to disappear. Become memories…and, eventually, be forgotten.

That's why I'm not sure why Tess and I became vocalists, became famous for that matter. We come out with a single or an album. Everyone goes crazy for a month, then forget the music because the billboard with us on it distracts them.

Even if people know our names, courtesy of the media, we are background photos and elevator music.

Torn, leader of the Underground responsible for saving their hides is already forgotten.

And Jak…his case is the worst of any. Malicious rumors and degrading conversations. That's how the greatest hero is remembered in Haven.

Sometimes I wonder how any of us fell in love. Tess and I…what provoked a feeling that, if known by the rest of the city, could have us banished. Then I look at Jak and Torn. They love each other too, right? It's all for the same reasons. We fell in love simply because love decided to touch us.

I cried for the very first time in her arms and, in those very same arms, I smiled and laughed.

Other times I wondered why I hadn't wanted her until recently. We met the first time I snuck out of that ridiculous palace, when we were around ten. And yet we aren't serious until we're nearly twenty?

Help me out here! When we were fourteen, sure we had a thing, but we agreed to bury those feelings to protect each other from the horrors of this city, right? We couldn't bear the shame of the whole world.

Maybe we could now.

A few months ago, she made a visit to Spargus, to see some friends. She came back with a rather unfriendly substance. I remembered those friends of hers. Exiled for releasing bio-harmful narcotics into the city.

Apparently, when Jak activated the light and Dark eco vents in Spargus, they decided to…_'experiment'._ And their experimentation conceived a new dangerous drug they called heroin, apparently derived from German. German was never really my language.

The drug was white; crystalline. Mash it up too much and it could be confused with snow. Not that Haven City could ever have snow; it's so polluted here it can't even snow anymore and the rain is acidic.

Tess took the narcotic.

The only surprise was that it was a narcotic, as she preferred hallucinogens.

Tess started saying strange things. Tess was always stressed. She acted angry toward me. Tess wasn't Tess. Not the Tess I fell in love with.

But I couldn't leave. Because I _did_ fall in love with Tess. Even if it all turns to anguish, I can't let it go. Can't let _her_ go. She's mine. Even if she's only a shell of the woman I love, she's mine. Always.

"'_Someone ordered our extinguishment; They know the location of where we're to meet.'?_" I read aloud, To this empty, desolate apartment in South Town. As if it was listening, waiting to strike me down at the perfect moment. No, the only ones listening are the rats by the generator and the silent layers of mist, turned a sickly grey and purple tint by the reflection of the metal.

'_This bed is my grave…_' Most of her messages had been like that since she'd become addicted. Not making any sense. Well, that one almost did make sense. The heroin was making her sick.

'_It's time for revenge._' She said that one in person, walking away from me while I begged her not to go.

She hasn't sent me anything since that. Well, she did say, "Don't worry, it's easy as two times two."

She smiled and walked away.

"How dare she smile?! How dare she _leave_ me?!" I ask the tacitly depressed clouds between pounds on my metal wall.

Turns out, metal is more effective than flesh, and the damage is rebounded upon the attacker. What a pity, the knuckles of the hands Tess loves to hold and have embrace her painted in red.

I fall down, crying and holding my bloodied hands. Not for the pain of my hands, I don't really notice that. It's the pain in my chest. A panic attack?

But I'm only crying for Tess.

Damn her!

I wake up on the floor, still bare. What did I expect? Tess to wrap me up in a blanket? Not likely. Great, now I'm thinking like Torn…

I check my plug-in phone. No messages. No missed calls. No voicemails.

I check my cell. No messages. No missed calls. No voicemails

I check my communicator. One missed call. One voicemail.

"Missed call from: Rayne," Came the digital female voice of my communicator. "Enter voicemail. Voicemail:"

"Hey, I've got a new project for you," came the voice of my Crass City accented manager. "I want you to release a new album with your group, Girls with Guns. Been a while since you and Tess made music. If you want, you can write it yourselves, like on your first albums. You've got time; seven months, to be precise. Good luck," she finished. How…Rayne-like.

"End voicemail. Your voicemail is empty."

I take a shower, clean my hand. I check the devices again; I must be paranoid. But this time, there's a message from Tess on my cell.

I open the text. I get my hopes up, how out of character-

'_Enough 'powder' her to multiply mine by six._'

-how disappointing.

I grab the nearest object- a vase of porcelain from Tess -and throw it across the room. I watch as if in a trance, as it shatters to a million tiny pieces. I feel as I just shattered my own heart, yet I feel indifferent.

No. What was left of my heart was shattered when Tess left for her 'revenge.' Tess doesn't believe in revenge. Tess is gone, all I'm still holding onto is the drug that possesses her beautiful body. I don't care. It's the last piece of Tess I have to hold onto. I will see this through to the end, as promised.

"Mazel tov," I type onto the screen.

Why should I care if she shattered my heart? She's mine.

Two days passed. I didn't notice. Didn't eat. Didn't sleep. But I did hatch up a brilliant plan seconds after those forty-eight hours. _If Tess won't call you, why don't you call Tess?_ And I did. So I was greeted by her frantic, angry, scared voice.

"_Don't call! No one call! Never call! I'm tired, always tired!_" She managed to shout before hanging up, the dull trademark mechanical toll left in her stead.

One week passed. No love. No sleep.

Another week passed. No food. No water. Not clean water, not our water, Haven's water

One final week passed. No medication.

One day passed. One call made. I answer.

She says it in Russian. I understand better.

"_Provoda. Provoda. Zachem provoda?_

_Poroshok._

_Pulsa net._

_Tolko tih ne prichem…"_

"'Wire. Wires. Why wires?

Powder.

No Pulse.

You no longer have to worry.'" I repeat in English. "Not now…"

And the trademark mechanical chime tolled, as if haunting me. As if to say, "It's all your fault, Ashelin," in a mockingly disapproving manner. As if willing me to die with her.

A shaking hand reaches for the KG pistol Tess modified for me. Ashelin Praxis etched on one side. _The Red Queen _etched on the other.

The maddening tone still tolled in the background, as if to urge me on.

I cock the gun. Press it to my skull. My hand is fine now. Resolve cured my hand.

I pull the trigger.

Even though I don't hear it, the repetitive tolling in the background stops, as if to say, "Well done," and a mechanical female voice interrupts the serene silence to inform that, "Your phone has been switched off."

A click.

A perpetually unyielding _beep _as if signifying my flat-line.

Tess and I are both gone now, uncorrupted by drugs and eating disorders. Our hands don't shake, drugs don't exist. She's mine, forever, she won't leave me again, and she won't take revenge and we still mess with guns, and we'll always be stars, perpetually singing…

Love it? Hate it? Review, please~ ^_^

Narcissist: Oh, please, James! Anyone could have done a better job than _that_!

James: You wanna try? *raises eyebrows incredulously*

Narcissist: I'll write the next one! And it'll be better than both of your's so far!

James: Sure it will, Narcissist, _sure _it will…

James Blanke, out.


End file.
